


Of Specters and Schemes

by NightMereBear



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25498411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightMereBear/pseuds/NightMereBear
Summary: There could not have been a better night for Claude von Riegan to pretend to be dead. Unfortunately, Lysithea did not seem to share this opinion and she glared at the darkened sky as though it had personally offended her.“With that scary look, maybe you should be playing the ghost tonight instead of me,” Claude observed. Lysithea’s eyes narrowed.“Just because you like to hear yourself talk, doesn’t mean that I do," she hissed. "Believe it or not, I have more important things to concern myself with than your infuriating proclivity for nonsense. Perhaps you have forgotten, but we do have a child to save.”
Relationships: Lysithea von Ordelia & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Of Specters and Schemes

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was created for "The Master Tactician" zine, a zine created in honor of Claude and his schemes! The zine can be downloaded for free, but any donations made will go to the "Black LGBTQIA+ Migrant Project!" There are over 100 pages of content created by awesome artists and writers!! If you are interested, check it out [ here!! ](https://twitter.com/claude_zine/status/1286692618882240514?s=20)
> 
> Thanks so much and a very, VERY happy birthday to the one and only Khalid/Claude von Riegan!

There could not have been a better night for Claude von Riegan to pretend to be dead.

High above him, dark clouds had chased away most of the stars and the moon seemed lonely without them. It flickered like a dying candle flame, seeming to enhance the shadows instead of the light. How considerate of the weather to fall so in line with his plans, Claude thought to himself. The moaning wind was a particularly nice touch.

Unfortunately, Lysithea did not seem to share this opinion, stiffening as she did every time the eerie sound whispered through the cliffs. The fourth time this occurred Claude shot her a knowing grin, and her answering glare was nothing short of frigid.

“Can I help you?”

Ah. So, she was still mad then.

“You know, with as scary as you sound, maybe _you_ should be playing the ghost tonight instead of me,” Claude observed. Lysithea’s eyes narrowed.

“Did you have something helpful to say? Or is wasting my time part of this ridiculous strategy?” she asked waspishly.

“Oh, it’s part of the strategy,” Claude responded with a nonchalance he knew she’d find irksome. Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded with a spectacular eye roll. 

“Let me enlighten you to something, Claude,” Lysithea began, and Claude could almost feel the imaginary jab of her finger digging into his chest. “Just because you like to hear yourself talk, doesn’t mean that I do. Believe it or not, I have more important things to concern myself with than your infuriating proclivity for nonsense. Perhaps you have forgotten, but we do have a child to save.”

Claude had been the victim of Lysithea’s sharp tongue often enough to know how to avoid its edge. Besides, her frustration wasn’t exactly unwarranted. Not after the stunt he’d pulled in the library. The fact that she had agreed to work with him at all remained a minor miracle and if it hadn’t been for the child in question, he suspected she would have refused completely.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, turning his eyes to the bandit camp sprawling below. “I remember.” From his vantage high above, Claude could just make out the silhouette of a young boy bound in thick rope at the base of the cliff, the light from the bandits’ fire illuminating his small, scared face.

Garreg Mach had received the desperate plea from a neighboring mountain village after the bandit troupe had attacked and taken a child hostage as collateral against retaliation. The ruffians had made it clear that if any knights so much as breathed in their direction, they would slit the boy’s throat and that would be the end of that. It had been quite the conundrum, but fortunately not one above the capabilities of one Claude von Riegan.

The trail leading up to the village had been littered with tiny shrines meant to guard against the spirits of wanderers who had met their end in the lofty heights. According to the village elder, these spirits stalked the cliffs at night, hoping to lure unsuspecting travelers to a similar fate. It was only after hearing these stories that Claude had realized something significant: Despite the damage done to the buildings and surrounding vegetation, not one of the shrines had been touched. It was as if the brigands had feared what they might incur were one of the temples to be desecrated, and it was this revelation that had given Claude’s strategy life.

He actually had Lysithea to thank for this particular scheme as most of its inspiration had come from a prank he had pulled on her only two days prior. Claude had thrown a sheet over his head and hidden in the library, waiting until the candles had burned to stubs before leaping out and moaning ghoulishly enough to send Lysithea tumbling from her chair. The scheme had nearly gotten him killed once she had realized that the ghost was not actually a ghost at all, and Claude was fairly certain the only reason he was still in one piece was due to the priceless nature of the tomes that had surrounded him.

He had come up with a similar ploy for the bandits, only this time it would be on a much larger scale. It was the perfect scheme, particularly if the brigands were as superstitious as they seemed. 

Initially, Claude had wanted Lysithea to play the ghost, her spectral white hair and ‘spooky’ dark magic making her the perfect choice for the role. Unfortunately, the moment he had asked her Lysithea had exploded, ranting about how an 'overabundance of nerve didn’t make up for a complete lack of tact,' and 'how could he even think about requesting something so ridiculous after the stunt that he had pulled!?' In an attempt to appease the irate mage, Claude had volunteered to play the ghost himself. Still, it wasn’t until Byleth had stepped in that Lysithea had at last relented.

The task of creating his ghostly visage had fallen to Hilda, a task she had taken to like Raphael on a fresh cut of meat. She had managed to turn Claude’s face a sickly shade of gray and had darkened the skin beneath his eyes so they appeared sunken and dull. To complete the look, she had pulled a dark cloak around his shoulders, its deep hood hanging low enough to cast his face into ominous shadow. Shortly thereafter, the trap had been set. 

Claude shifted against the stone as his stiff legs protested their lack of movement. His eyes flicked to the bandits milling about below, blissfully ignorant of what was about to befall them.

Now seemed as good a time as any to begin. 

“Go ahead and signal the others,” he murmured, glancing at Lysithea who nodded stiffly. He raised a brow. “You nervous?”

“Of course not." Her reply was too quick to be honest. Claude’s mouth quirked and he had to resist the urge to reach out and ruffle her hair. No doubt she’d blast him off the cliff if he did.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let any bandits lay a finger on you,” he promised. 

Lysithea scoffed. “I can take care of myself! I’m not a child!” she hissed. “Besides, it’s not them I’m worried about.”

Claude watched her eyes dart to the shadows crisscrossing along the cliffside like oily cobwebs, noting the way her body still tensed every time the wind wound through the pass. It was easy to imagine that eerie sound belonging to some hungry, wayward spirit—the sort that would have been right at home in one of the elder’s stories. He understood her apprehension perfectly.

This time, Claude only hesitated a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder. “You are a hundred times scarier than any ghost that might be haunting this mountain,” he said to her. “I promise.” Lysithea met his eyes, her brows leaping toward her hairline. Claude immediately backtracked. “Not that there _are_ ghosts haunting this mountain, of course. But if there _were_ ghosts _—_ "

“I’m signaling the others,” Lysithea interrupted, rolling her eyes and pushing his hand away. But as the tiny signal flare appeared in her palms, Claude could have sworn she smiled.

…

The bandits had picked a surprisingly strategic location for their camp—tucked as it was beneath an outcropping of stone rising thirty feet in the air. It was the very same outcropping on which Claude and Lysithea were currently hidden. Not far from the base of the cliff a tangle of forest sprawled, the knotted trees ideal for keeping straggling eyes at bay. Unfortunately for the bandits, the twisted boughs were just as effective for concealing the Golden Deer. Claude scanned the tree line, hoping that Marianne had seen the signal from wherever she was hiding and had begun to make her move.

Gruff voices drifted to his ears as the bandits talked brusquely amongst themselves. There were ten of them in total, each with an axe or cudgel within easy reach. Between the unkempt facial hair that sprouted from their faces and the layers of dirt that coated their clothes, the men looked every bit as wild as the forest itself.

“…been a day already,” one of the bandits was grumbling. “You really think that village is gonna pay up for the kid?”

“I say we dump him,” another said. “Plenty of convenient crevices around here. One toss and he’s off our hands for good. We’d move faster without him, ‘specially if those damn knights pick up our trail.”

“You some kind of idiot?” a third bandit argued. “Mark my words, you chuck this kid and his spirit will come back to cut your throat while you sleep.” He shuddered, casting a wary glance around him. “These cliffs are haunted enough without us addin’ to their ranks.”

A series of low chortles rippled through the circle, some nervous, others mocking.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe the stories?” one asked.

“I believe they’re as good a reason as any to get out of these cliffs,” the paranoid bandit responded. “Besides, I didn’t see _you_ goin’ near any of those damn shrines.” 

“Aw, grow a pair would ya? I left them shrines alone because—"

“Why is it so blasted cold?”

Claude felt his lips curl at the sudden inquiry, reveling in the following silence as several of the bandits shifted uneasily. Somewhere out there, Marianne was casting subtle blizzard spells along the ground, causing the temperature around the camp to drop considerably. All the while the wind continued to blow, weaving through the stones with its signature wail.

“I don’t like this,” one of the bandits muttered.

“It’s just the wind,” another contradicted. “You gonna wet your pants every time it gets a bit breezy?”

“They’re uneasy,” Lysithea whispered. “Shall we proceed to phase two?”

“We shall,” Claude confirmed.

Lysithea pushed herself into a crouch, staying low against the stone to avoid drawing the bandits’ attention. She cupped her hands together, summoning a tiny flame that danced between her palms. The light flickered for three heartbeats before she closed her hand, extinguishing the fire and flattening herself back against the rock.

“Any second now,” Claude muttered.

One heartbeat passed.

Then two.

A cacophonous bellow erupted from just beyond the tree line, one that had birds taking to the air and bandits leaping to their feet. Several of the men reached for their weapons, glancing about with wide, fearful eyes.

“What the hell was that!?”

“It came from the woods!”

“Of course, it came from the woods! Where else could it come from!?”

The brigands bunched closer to their fire, seeking protection within its stalwart glow, their backs turned to the cliffs. 

Claude almost laughed. The men were responding exactly as he had hoped they would. The bellow itself was completely harmless as it came from the mouth of one Raphael Kirsten. While the gentle giant could certainly appear intimidating to those who did not know him, he was by no means a bloodthirsty specter. Of course, the bandits had no way of knowing this. 

Three heartbeats later a bloodcurdling scream shattered the silence and if the bandits had been spooked before, they were downright terrified now.

“S-sounds like whatever’s out there just got someone,” one whimpered, clutching his axe to his chest. “We gotta get outta here!”

A second scream pierced the air and the bandits jumped again, one nearly tipping into the fire.

“Hilda’s really outdoing herself,” Claude observed.

“I should hope so,” Lysithea grumbled. “After all that ostentatious practicing she _claimed_ was necessary… Honestly, how ridiculous. I didn’t think my headache would _ever_ go away.”

It was true. In the handful of hours after Claude’s scheme had come to light, Hilda had taken to shrieking at inopportune moments to—as she claimed—'perfect her ghostly impression.’ The fourth time this had occurred, Byleth had been so startled that she’d accidentally shattered the elder’s tea mug and the curses that had followed effectively put an end to Hilda’s shenanigans.

“None of them are watching the boy,” Lysithea hissed, drawing Claude from his reminiscing. The corner of his mouth quirked. 

“Then it looks like we’re up,” he responded. “You ready?”

Lysithea hesitated, her lips pressing together with a stubbornness Claude had seen countless times before.

“Just to be clear, this is never going to happen again!” she stated. 

“Of course not,” Claude confirmed.

“I’m only doing it for the child!” she persisted.

“And ballads will be written to honor your noble sacrifice.”

Lysithea’s eyes narrowed and for a moment Claude wondered if he’d taken his teasing a little too far. Fortunately for him, the boy’s well being seemed to outweigh Lysithea’s desire to blast her house leader into tiny, sarcastic pieces. She exhaled slowly, as if to cleanse herself of all irritation.

“Okay,” she finally assented. “Let’s get this over with.”

Claude beamed. “Your carriage awaits, my lady,” he said, pulling his cloak over one shoulder and extending his arms behind him. He caught a few of the words that Lysithea muttered as she clambered onto his back—none of which were flattering. But being the good-natured soul that he was, he politely decided to ignore them.

“Are you ready?” he asked as her arms locked around his neck. 

“No,” she retorted, flatly. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Alas, you do not.”

Claude straightened, allowing his cloak to tumble back across his shoulders and cover Lysithea completely. He turned toward a length of rope that was twining across the stone behind them, its dark coils resembling a snake weaving through the shadows. Claude had previously fastened one of its ends to a nearby tree and he picked up the other now, giving it a few experimental tugs. He had no interest in becoming a _real_ ghost after all. Satisfied in the rope’s security, Claude took a step closer to the cliff’s edge.

Another scream pierced the night. Another roar.

“Hold on tight,” Claude whispered to Lysithea. She muttered a final curse, her arms tightening around his neck as he leapt into open air.

At first, Claude felt nothing but the rush of wind racing past his ears as gravity took over. Then there was a sudden jerk around his navel as the rope pulled taut, halting their descent ten feet from the ground. They swayed along the escarpment, mere feet from where the bandits huddled in front of the fire. If any of the men had turned around, they doubtless would have seen Claude swinging back and forth like a particularly graceless lemur. Yet thanks to the convincing performances of Hilda and Raphael, the bandits’ attention remained wholeheartedly on the trees.

They did, however, hear the thump of boots as Claude dropped behind the fire. The men whirled around, shouting with surprise and hefting their weapons high. They would not get the chance to swing.

Claude drew up to his full height as Lysithea muttered a spell, and black magic spiraled around them like ghostly appendages. He bared his teeth.

“Boo.”

The bandits scattered, swearing oaths to the goddess as they bolted toward the underbrush.

Claude stalked forward as Lysithea’s magic swelled and pulsed, lashing out at the bandits' heels and driving them faster toward the trap that waited in the wood. The men’s fearful shouts transformed into exclamations of surprise as the ground gave way beneath them, Leonie’s carefully dug pits pulling the brigands greedily into the earth. Any that managed to avoid the traps only managed a few more steps before Byleth brought them to heel.

And just like that, it was over. 

Claude felt Lysithea’s arms slip from around his neck, a ripple of air beneath his cloak indicating her departure before her footsteps did. He didn’t need to look to know that she was racing for the child still bound against the rocks. The bandits had left him behind in their haste to get away.

“You look ridiculous.”

Claude glanced over to see Lorenz emerging from the trees, a disgruntled expression on his face.

“I look terrifying, thank you,” Claude responded, waggling his fingers for extra spectral effect. Lorenz rolled his eyes.

“Such infantile behavior,” he muttered. “One might think you are actually enjoying yourself.”

“One would be correct,” Claude responded with a grin. “Say what you will, but even you have to admit that my little scheme was a complete success.”

“Hmm,” Lorenz replied. “And what of Lysithea? Did she enjoy herself as much as you clearly seemed to?”

Claude chuckled. “I’m not sure ‘enjoyed’ is the right word,” he replied. “There’s a very high probability that she’s still annoyed about the library incident… and by ‘very high probability’ I mean she’s definitely still mad.” 

Lorenz’s brow furrowed. “With antics as careless and uncouth as your own, I am hardly surprised to hear it.” He exhaled dramatically. “If you cannot correct such a simple dispute, I shudder to think how you might handle a larger altercation in the future—particularly one pertaining to the Alliance.” 

Claude sighed and clapped a hand on Lorenz’s shoulder.

Lorenz shrugged it off.

Claude pressed on anyway.

“The thing about being a master tactician is that you have to know your allies as well as your enemies. You have to know what makes them tick, how far you can push their buttons, and how to get back into their good graces once you’ve purposefully strolled out of them,” he said.

Lorenz raised a brow. “You have a point in there somewhere, I presume?” he asked dryly.

Before Claude could answer, a piercing whistle cut through the air—Leonie signifying that the bandits had been properly rounded up. With that seen to, and with Lysithea taking care of the boy, the mission had at last concluded.

Claude turned back to Lorenz.

“The point is that—believe it or not—I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The afternoon following her return to Garreg Mach, Lysithea von Ordelia walked into her room to find a large chocolate cake sitting upon her writing desk. Upon closer observation, she discovered a small piece of parchment folded neatly beside it, upon which a note had been scrawled. Curious, she picked it up and began to read.

_To the only woman I know who is scarier than mountain ghouls._

_My deepest thanks for your help against the bandits, I would never have thought of those particular tactics without our little library mishap. And yes, I know you’re still mad about that. I hope you’ll consider this cake a peace offering—I seem to remember you mentioning a fondness for sweets once or twice._

_-Claude_

Lysithea rolled her eyes, shoving the parchment aside in favor of the scrumptious pastry. She scooped a bit of the chocolate frosting onto her finger and brought it to her lips. Delectable flavors burst to life across her tongue and she barely resisted the urge to giggle with delight. Lysithea reached for the accompanying fork—she wasn’t a child after all and would indulge like a proper adult—when her eyes caught again on Claude’s note. A tiny smile folded across her face.

Perhaps forgiveness was in order after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it!! I hope you guys enjoyed this! It was a blast to work on and the whole crew for this zine was great to work with!! I am thrilled to have been a part of it! Check out the zine! Check out their work!! And go ahead and check out my [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/NightMereBear) for more art and writing! :D Take care of yourselves out there!! <3


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